Turquoise under the moon

The sunset is a beautiful thing. Here I try to explain it and what it means to me.

--

as
stuttering
seconds
spontaneously erupt
in every hue
spatially entwined to

even as I peer outwardly
leeringly at
fin-AL-ity
clutching at my hearts rapture

I don’t watch the bleeding
martyrdom with eyes
of sadness
but the ephemeral beauty of
birth and smiling motherhood
expressing her
happiness and love

even in night’s lunar
wakening
the drama of
that magic
hour does not collapse
spontaneously

her soul is
not red and fiery
throwing flames
and flashing light beams
on waves of turquoise

there progresses the
fleeing shadows
pushed by
her dying breaths
enlightened by providence
and rebirth